


we'll see what this love is for

by liquidsky



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Wordcount: 100-2.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 03:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2333471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liquidsky/pseuds/liquidsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Shhh,” he says, the lines of his mouth settling into a softer smile, “Trust me on this, ok?”</p>
<p>And the thing is: Adam does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we'll see what this love is for

**Author's Note:**

> i'd already posted this on tumblr. but, y'know. [awkward laugh]  
> the title is a line from priscilla by sea wolf.

If he were to dream of gentle things, he’d dream of calloused hands twisting into fists, straight lines molding into curves, bright-eyed grace in the shape of a boy. If he were to dream of heavy things, he’d dream of tears falling over blood falling over flesh falling over bones. If he were to dream of beautiful things, he’d dream of barely contained wrath shaking just below surface. If he were to dream of terrifying things, he’d dream of fingertips tracing unplanned patterns on naked skin, he’d dream of—

He’d dream of things that were no longer dreams, he thinks, as Adam Parrish looks up at him, eyes wide, mouth slack, a mix of barely audible words and gasps leaving his lips. Ronan’s hands are starting to get a little too close to shaky, so he focuses on reaching for Adam’s, intertwining their fingers.

They’re at Monmouth Manufacturing—Gansey is out doing god-knows-what along with Noah and Blue. It’s a warm day, three in the afternoon and they’re huddled together in Ronan’s bed, kissing unhurriedly, their legs tangled together. Adam’s hands go up to trace the lines of Ronan’s tattoo, and he shivers, arches into Adam’s touch like iron to a magnet and it’s _so_ _good_ , so ridiculously good that it makes him silly, a breathy laugh escaping from his lips. Adam laughs too, his body shaking underneath Ronan’s. The whole thing is so close to _perfect_ that Ronan would have thought it to be a dream hadn’t he nearly left his pinky toe by the edge of the goddamn bed frame in their frantic fumble to _get to the bed, god, bed, right._

Still smiling, Ronan leans away from Adam so they can both take their shirts off. Adam, who manages to get rid of his a millisecond faster—and accidentally hit a lamp and send it crashing to the ground after tossing his shirt to the other side of the room with maybe too much force—, then surges up to kiss Ronan, hands roaming over his shoulders and down his sides, fingers digging into Ronan’s hips.

Adam’s about to go for Ronan's belt when he stops him, grabs his wrists and pushes him down, getting him to lie with his back against the bed. Adam tries to get up again, but Ronan just holds him more firmly in place, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Adam’s eyebrows shoot up, “What are you—”, Ronan presses his index finger against Adam’s lips, stopping him.

“ _Shhh,_ ” he says, the lines of his mouth settling into a softer smile, “Trust me on this, ok?”

And the thing is: Adam does. He lets his hands fall by each side of his head and waits, closing his eyes as Ronan’s leans in to kiss him, drags his lips down the surface of Adam’s face, nips at his chin, sucks a bruise on the soft skin of Adam’s neck. He kisses his way down Adam’s collarbone, mouths at the tanned expanse of his chest, closes his lips over Adam’s nipples—Adam shudders at that, his entire body burning, a forest fire spreading from the inside out.

One of Ronan’s hands presses down against Adam’s chest, feeling the rabbit fast beat of his pulse under his fingertips. It’s maddening, is what it is. Adam tells himself again and again _not to look down,_ _don’t look down_ – certain that the _sight_ of Ronan’s tongue poking out from between his swollen lips and dragging over Adam’s navel would be too much and decidedly _not_ wanting to come in his pants like the teenage boy he is, but. He opens his eyes and Ronan’s looking up at him, hands frozen on the buckle of Adam’s belt and eyes wide, “May I?”

Adam nods fast, “Yeah—you, uh, ye _anhhhhn_ —,” when Ronan palms him through his jeans, the heavy fabric between them feeling like nothing at all and—

Ronan unfastens Adam’s belt, unzipping his fly too slowly not to be on purpose and Adam groans, hips hitching up. Ronan laughs, leaning down to press his mouth against Adam’s bulge and _holyfuckingshit_. Adam fists the comforter, twisting the fabric into his hands and biting his lips to stifle a loud moan. Ronan snorts. Adam rolls his eyes. It’s a stray thought in the middle of the foggy mess that his mind has become, but Adam thinks that he likes that they’re still them, you know, even when—even when _Adam’sdickisabouttobeonRonan’shands_ and _ohmyGO_ —

“Hey,” Ronan’s low voice pulls him away from his thoughts, and Adam feels the familiar heat of a blush setting on his cheeks, “You still with me?”

“Yeah,” he says, “Sorry,”

Ronan smiles at him, gentle, “That’s ok,”. He hooks his fingers on Adam’s belt loops and pulls. Pulls them all the way off, throws them carelessly somewhere in the bedroom and leans down to pepper small kisses along Adam’s thighs. He watches as Ronan’s hands trace the line of Adam’s already hard dick, cotton clinging ridiculously to the tip where there are wet spots. He watches as Ronan smiles to himself, one of his hands traveling down to palm his own erection and – Adam groans, flops his head on the pillow and forces his eyes to close, breathing heavily. That Ronan’s getting off on getting _Adam_ off is just— _god_.

Ronan, who is apparently an unholy fucking _tease_ , licks Adam’s dick through his underwear, and, well, Adam considers himself to be above a lot of stuff in life, but right now, begging is something he’s definitely _not_ above doing, which is why he lowers his hands to cup Ronan’s face,

“ _Ronan_ ,” it doesn’t come out as composed as he intended, not an ounce of his accent going unnoticed and sounding more like a whine than anything else, he goes on, “C’mon, _please_.”

And apparently that’s just what Ronan wanted, ‘cause the next thing he does—well, after looking up at Adam through his lashes and giving him the single most honest smile Adam has _ever_ seen on Ronan’s face—is pull Adam’s boxers off.

Adam’s dick flops unceremoniously onto his belly, and he can’t help but feel really freaking awkward about the ridiculous amount of pre-come leaking, well, _everywhere_. He fidgets with the comforter, focusing on resisting the impulse of covering his junk like a blushing virgin—which, well, he kind of wishes that wasn’t the truth, but. It is what it is. And Ronan’s looking at him with a glassy-eyed, stupidly fond look on his face, biting his lips.

Ronan leans over Adam and gives him a quick kiss before taking Adam’s dick in one of his hands, closing his fingers around the shaft and slowly stroking upwards. Adam would very much like to pretend that he manages to keep his shit at least sort-of-together, but. Still stroking him, Ronan closes his mouth around the head of Adam’s dick, hollows his cheeks and sucks softly. His eyes are glazed when he looks up at Adam through his lashes, letting Adam's dick fall out of his mouth, then spitting right at the slit while closing his fingers even more tightly around the shaft. Adam's moan reverberates through the bedroom, throaty and unbelievably loud. 

Adam spreads his legs a little wider, one of his hands—the one that isn’t gripping the comforter with enough strength to nearly rip it apart—resting just above Ronan’s buzzed head. _Holy motherfucking_ _fuck_. Ronan tries bobbing his head up and down, taking as much of Adam’s dick inside his mouth as he can, and that, right there, must be what heaven feels like. Adam’s toes are curling, his hands going up to grip Ronan’s muscled arms and he just can’t get himself to breathe normally. His breath is coming out on loud puffs of air, moans ripping through him like goddamn hurricanes and,

“ _F-uck_ ,” he half-whines, “ _Ronan_ _,_ godpleaseI’m—”

With the hand that isn’t currently wrapped around Adam’s dick, Ronan reaches for Adam’s balls, rolling them in his hand and leaning down to lick them, take each at a time in his mouth—there’s a nearly invisible line of spit connecting one of Adam’s balls to Ronan’s mouth, Adam’s thighs are shaking, Ronan’s nipping at skin, licking all the way down to the soft skin on his perineum, one of his hands still expertly stroking the length of Adam’s dick and he’s shaking, his heels digging into the mattress, his nails digging into Ronan’s shoulders almost hard enough to draw blood and he’s shaking and—

“ _Ronan_ , I’m, I—” and he’s done for, coming so hard he nearly sprains something. Ronan laughs breathlessly, taking one of his come-covered fingers into his mouth and making a funny “not that bad” face. Adam’s eyes go wide, and he laughs too, happy and bright and pulling Ronan into a deep kiss. He leans away from Ronan for a second, not even trying to hide the shit-eating grin on his face,

“Give me five, then it’s my turn,” he says, and Ronan snorts, kissing him again.


End file.
